


Playlist Shuffle Off to Buffalo

by just_a_dram



Category: Alice in Wonderland (2010)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-15 15:10:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_a_dram/pseuds/just_a_dram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Playlist Shuffle Challenge: FIVE drabble-filled efforts. Alice/Hatter, angst, fluff, and everything in between, K to T. Ch 5 has M content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Rules:_

_Rules:_

 _1\. Pick a character, fandom, pairing, friendship, whatever._

 _2\. Put your music on shuffle/random and start playing songs._

 _3\. For each song, write something inspired by the song related to the theme you chose earlier. No pre-planning and no writing after the song is over. No skipping songs, either._

 _4\. Do 10 songs and post. Be sure to include the song/artist._

* * *

Theme: Alice in Wonderland

Rated G to PG-13

1\. Linkin Park – My December 4:17

Hatter was fairly certain that it had not been winter in Underland in many moons. The cherry trees perennially bloomed and the days were always long. Yet, as he sat at the tea table waiting—which he had been doing now for what must have been years—he saw, touched, and tasted the descent of winter around him. The leaves dropped from the trees. The grass turned brown, the sky gray. Cold crept into his waistcoat, making his skin go numb. And then the snow began to fall.

He had made a deal. A deal to give everything away, even his allegiance to his Queen, if he could only have Alice back. A deal with potions and black magic and evil. He should have known that these sorts of things never worked as one intended. He was being punished: punished by Underland for his slurvishness. No Alice, no friends, no tea, and no sunshine. Only blanketing cold and snow. He imagined that the end would be slow. Eventually there would be no pain, only the niggling reminder that once he had had an Alice, given up everything, and lost her.

...

2\. Panic at the Disco – Nine in the Afternoon 3:14

Mally stretched a paw, emerging from a cracked teacup. "What Time is it, Hatter?" She frowned when she saw that Hatter was not at the tea table to answer her question. He was never where he was supposed to be nowadays. He was always with Her.

Mally scampered down from the table, hurrying into the Windmill House, where she imagined she might find the hopeless lovers.

"Knock, knock!" she shouted as she scurried under the door, knowing she was likely to find them indulging in horrible hormonally inspired things.

"Ahem," Hatter muttered, stumbling away from a table, where Alice was pressed with her eyes as big as the moon.

"What time is it, Hatter?" Mally demanded peevishly with a shake of her head.

Hatter dug in his waistcoat, searching for the broken time piece, which no doubt was in need of a good buttering.

Alice sighed in frustration, as if she very much wanted Mally gone. "Oh, who knows, Mally! It's nine in the afternoon."

Hatter paused, having finally found his pocket watch, but engaged in staring in wonder at Alice rather than providing Mally with the Information she sought. "I have left your mind quite muddled, Alice."

Mally growled as mightily as she was able: Alice's mind may have been jumbled, but that lump of a lovesick Hatter had the nerve to look rather pleased with himself about it.

...

3\. Train – Hey Soul Sister 3:37

Alice had left a mark on his mind. A permanent mark, which he knew could not be erased no matter the amount of lye scrubbing. He knew from the first time he met her that he would never mistake her for anyone else, anything less, than The Alice. She was sane and he was mad, but they were two of a kind and that could not be bad.

And now she was back—just in Time. This must be obsession. Quite unhealthy, really, but he just wanted to do terrible things to her. Make her mind go blank for just a moment the way his did, blessedly, when she pressed her lips to his. Time went all funny when she danced. When she sang off key. When she smiled behind her teacup. Time might also stand still if she was ever horizontal as he had imagined her.

He simply did not want to miss a minute of Alice. Not tonight. Not ever. He would have to make her His.

...

4\. The Temper Trap – Sweet Disposition 3:53

"Alice, run."

Alice squinted at Tarrant, but could not fathom why he was instructing her to run. They had been having such a lovely walk. Why should they need to trot anywhere?

He seized her hand. "Run, Alice!"

He began to drag her through the thick grass of the fields.

"Why are we running?" She could see no danger.

"Because we're alive!" he shouted back over his shoulder.

Alice hurried behind him being half dragged by the longer legged Hatter. There was only so long she could keep this up this pace.

"Are we going to stop?" she panted.

"Not until we're finished," he answered obtusely.

As they ran over a hill, breaching the top, a wondrous view presented itself to them. They came to a skittering halt. Licking her lips and gasping for breath, she imagined she could see half of Underland from here. A view worth running for, she mused, and then he spun her around, pulling her to his chest, putting a stop to her ruminations. Her heart was still hammering in her chest from the exertion of running. She raised a hand to press it to his chest, so as to feel his doing the same.

"Won't stop, Alice," he lisped, kissing her.

...

5\. 311 – Amber 3:29

Alice had a color. Hatter assumed that everyone could see it, for he could see it so very clearly. She was bathed in it all around. But, the first time he had voiced his opinion on the perfection of Alice's color, he had been taken aback by the assembled company's ignorance on the subject.

"Alice Blue," he stated matter-of-factly. "The most lovely shade of blue every imaginable or unimaginable. Alice believes in the impossible, you see. So, it is quite possible that Alice Blue would otherwise be impossible if it were not for Alice's very smart practice of thinking the impossible."

Mally rolled her eyes. "Must we always spoil teatime with talk of the Alice?"

"No, not at all. My most sincere apologies," Hatter said, passing a pot of tea to Thackery, who was busy cleaning his whiskers with his paws in jerking motions. "We can talk about the Champion if you would prefer."

...

6\. Coldplay – Clocks 5:08

She could see him through the looking glass, waiting upon her, sitting endlessly at a tea table bedecked with spoiled treats and cold tea. All she would have to do is go home. It was home to her, was it not? Not cold dreary London. And yet…

Every time she peered at him and decided to once more descend the steps for tea with perfectly matched crack-less china in London, she recognized that she was missing her opportunity. An opportunity for personal happiness; an opportunity to bring happiness to Another. Every time she said, 'no,' to the urge, she left herself a little sadder and Another a little madder. She had become a part of his disease.

Nothing in the world compared to Hatter. Nothing in this world, and yet she continued to turn from the looking glass and descend the stairs like a good girl, like a dutiful daughter. Time was slipping away.

"Alice?"

"Coming, Mother."

...

7\. The Killer – Human 4:06

Doors made Alice nervous. Looking glasses left her trembling. She checked her pulse. What was she to do? Could she merely step through?

If she stepped through, she would have to give her regards to everything she knew, including Filial Duty, because if she went through, she could not come back. Not when she knew what leaving again would do to Him.

Alice collapsed to her knees, her skirts billowing about her as she contemplated the looking glass and reached out a shaking hand to test its surface.

"Pay my respects to Respectability," Alice mused aloud, laughing nervously. Living with a hatter. "Pay my regards to Sanity." In an upside down mad world. Her hand dipped through the watery glass. "But, I must follow my heart where it will lead, I am only human."

...

8\. Dashboard Confessional – Belle of the Boulevard 4:02

"Alice, you're leaking," Hatter observed.

"Mmm," Alice hummed, turning her head to wipe her eyes. She did not know why she could not learn faster. It was of the utmost importance that she learn how to wield this sword and wield it well. They all depended upon it.

He reached for her chin, preventing her from turning away from him. The cold metal of his thimbles brought her back to her senses, and she blinked back the undesired tears.

"You might try singing," he suggested, gazing at her with that wide eyed unarming stare. "That always saves me, when I'm falling apart. Or tea? Tea helps build courage."

"Do you think that Mally is correct? That I am in need of muchness?"

He tilted his head, contemplating. "Things are always hard for the Champion of Underland, but you never really lack for muchness."

"Sometimes I lack it a little," she sniffed.

His hand covered hers on the hilt of the sword, "Just hold on, wee laddie."

...

9\. Smashing Pumpkins – The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning 5:03

Iracebeth liked to daydream. She liked to lose herself in the colors of her dreams: red, blue, and white. The color of her reign was red and in her dreams all of Underland would be painted red. Right after her useless sister was wiped clean, erased from all Memory. Her white rule would be smeared with her blue blood and then Iracebeth would paint Marmoreal red.

Her precious Jabberwocky would devour stupid Mirana's world. The meek one's little devoted doting creatures burnt up in the fracas. She would have the creature knock the once pale princess' palace walls down. Mirana's kingdom would come crashing down undone. Iracebeth, the _proper_ ruler of all of Underland, would be left as the _sole_ ruler. Time would stop and admire her work. All that would be left would be red. Underland's darkest hour would be her hour of triumph.

In her dreams she liked to press the blade to Mirana's pale neck herself. Watch the blood pour forth as it stained her pristine white gown. She devoured her milquetoast sister with hate. Delightfully delicious red hate.

...

10\. Plain White T's – Hey There Delilah 3:53

"Hello there, Alice," Hatter said, helping Alice up onto the table, picking her up between his thumb and index finger about her tiny waist.

It was a shame Alice had not arrived for tea as Proper Right Sized Alice, for there were Naughty things he would like to do if she ever arrived Just So, but then, he was not going to mention that, seeing as she was finally Here.

"You look so very pretty," he lisped, assisting her in the creation of an impromptu tuffet from a white napkin so that she would have somewhere to sit.

Alice did not bother to thank him for his efforts. Alice did not say very much, but she rarely did these days. When she visited she was quite quiet, and he was forced to carry on both sides of the conversation.

"Tea, Alice?" he asked, offering her a teacup that was much too large. "That won't do," he mused, pulling off a thimble. "Here," he said, handing it to her, "much more suitable."

Alice did not drink. Perhaps she was put off by the thimble. Not everyone approved of tea served in thimbles. Or perhaps she was tuckered out by travel from Above. Travel in this Not Proper Size Alice body must be very exhausting.

"Of course, if you are too tired for tea, we can do whatever you would like."

Alice did not answer. He blinked, and Alice wavered: There and then Not There. Sometimes he thought he dreamt Alice. Dreamt her Here. Quiet Alice who never answered and never drank her tea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SECOND EFFORT

SECOND EFFORT

Theme: Alice in Wonderland

Rated G to R

1\. Train – Meet Virginia 4:02

"Alice, I should not have to beg you to put on your dress or brush your hair."

"I don't care about any of that," Alice pouted stubbornly.

"Little girls must listen to their mothers," her mother insisted, pushing the brush across the dressing table towards Alice with the raised brow that Meant Business.

Alice took the ivory handled brush in hand and pulled it through her hair, growling silently at the looking glass. She would not be Little Alice forever, she inwardly promised herself. She would be Grown Alice and she would live her life as _she_ saw fit. She would not wear stockings, she would not wear her hair in bows, and she would not listen to mothers.

"In Wonderland, I was a Queen, you know," Alice said quite proudly, as her mother began to leave her bedchamber, happy enough that she had begun to brush her hair. "Queens are not made by anyone to brush their hair."

"You can always go _back_ to Wonderland and _be_ the Queen, Alice, if you would rather not listen to your mother," her mother informed her icily.

Well, yes, she supposed she could. If she could find the way, of course. But in truth, she did not really want to be the Queen, which left her for the time being as Little Alice forced by the tyranny of mothers to brush her hair.

...

2\. Parachute – Under Control 4:21

Hatter wished she would stop _looking_ at him that way. He balled his fists under the table, pressing the thimbles on his middle fingers into his palm. Control, Hatter, he advised himself silently. Control was not his strong point, but Alice mustn't know. Mustn't see. Mustn't be exposed to his Thoughts or Actions: because, for the love of Underland, what if how he felt not only appeared in his eyes, but actually spilled out in Action? Unforgiveable Action? What if he seized her with his hands? Troubled her lips with his own? Moaned into her mouth? Ran his hands over the length of her tunic? Slipped them underneath the band of her trousers? Lifted her on top of this _bloody tea table_? What if he took exactly what he wanted?

...

3\. Carolina Liar – Show Me What I'm Looking For 4:03

"Try again," Alice whispered.

She observed Tarrant swallow heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing beneath his bowtie.

"Again?"

She nodded, digging her fingers into his lapels, fearing that he was about to step away given the yellow rim that was circling his bright blue irises.

"I meant to do better," she said, bridging the gap between their lips.

"Better," he repeated, brushing her lips.

Fear had seized her a moment ago, but she wanted to properly return the proffered gift. She had begun to suspect that Hatter was what she wanted. What she had been searching for. This kiss might tell her everything she needed to know. Her confusion might be ended. It might save her.

This time, this kiss was different. She was able to respond. She was able to return the pleasant pressure. She felt his tongue run along her lip, begging access. A shiver ran up her spine, and it was a very good thing that she had anchored herself to his jacket.

"Alice," he said, pulling back to rest his forehead against hers.

He was breathing heavily, but then, so was she. This is what kissing Hatter was like. All her questions were answered.

"I've been waiting for you," she sighed.

...

4\. Smashing Pumpkins – 1979 4:26

Humans, fools all of them, Chessur thought, swiping a paw across his ear. Dormice and Hares not much better, however, he observed. Stuck with them, he supposed. The thought made him reduce himself slowly to just a tail—a twitching tail that could lazily express his resignation to being surrounded by circus freaks for the rest of his endless existence. Mad, all of us.

Except for that Alice. Not a proper Cat, perhaps, but promising. Worth saving even. One could not tell a human these things, however. She would go to pieces. Blubber all over his coat. Want to pet him in appreciation for his complimentary views of her.

And if _she_ was worth saving, he would have to go to the trouble to save that ridiculous Hatter as well, because he—being a feline of exceptional capabilities and insight—had the foresight to see that they would Need each other, as humans often did. Terribly social creatures, humans. Pity, that.

...

5\. Modest Mouse – Float On 3:29

"Cheers!" Mally exclaimed, raising a somewhat drunken paw into the air.

"Drunken paw," Hatter pondered aloud. He had always wondered how that might look, and now that Mally had stirred her spiked tea with a paw, he was able to see most clearly just what a drunken paw looked like. A bit moist and wobbly.

" _Tea!_ " Thackery slurred, slumping into his crumpet.

"Whose idea was it to spike the tea?" Chessur purred.

"Mine," all three hosts announced, although the Hare's response was somewhat muffled by bakery goods.

"Purrfect," Chess said, rolling his large teal eyes for effect.

"We're celebratin'," Mally advised the Cat.

"Celebrating what?"

"Several unbirthdays, Morganbasch day, and the end of worries," Hatter informed the floating Cat.

"The end of worries, hmm?" Chessur said, seemingly unconvinced.

"Well, yes," Hatter began, sipping from his spiked tea with his pinky extended. "Perhaps you hadn't heard, dear Chess. I am engaged."

...

6\. Blue October – Breakfast After Ten 4:31

" _Yer late!_ " Thackery shouted, tossing a spatula in the air.

Yes, but recently he was always late for breakfast, he admitted to himself, as he gazed about the all white palace kitchen and listened to clatter of the spatula against the tile floor.

"Never before ten nowadays," Hatter agreed by way of apology. Thackery was so bothered by lateness that he should really attempt to be on time, he thought with a frown.

He lingered in bed longer than was healthy. Lazy bag o' bones, Mally called him. Not lazy, actually, but mad, certainly.

Alice had left again, and all that remained of her were his Memories and the every day lessening scent of her on his sheets. Lying amongst the sheets was his reason for being late. Lying amongst the sheets and thinking wicked thoughts, which necessitated his hat being placed on the side table, where it could not overhear its owner being so very _naughty_.

Alice had explained why she needed to go back, but the madness sometimes whispered to him that he ought to be angry. Angry with Alice—a possibility he had imagined impossible. And it whispered to him that when she came back, as she promised she would, he should show her in a most _vigorous_ fashion what she had been missing while she was Above. Make her _feel_ the strength of his feelings. Nothing soft or slow or gentle or kind, as had been their wont. So that at least her knees would not carry her very far for some time. So that she would not leave.

...

7\. Gavin DeGraw – Chariot 4:01

Sometimes Alice thought about him as she lay abed. Staring up at the ceiling and counting the stars that must be above her head outside the roof of the palace just beyond her seeing. She could not help herself sometimes. She thought of his ginger hair and green eyes and his tendency to see the world so differently than the rest.

His tendency to say the most charmingly odd things.

" _Alice, would you care for some chocolate with your salmon sandwich?"_

" _Chocolate?"_

" _It improves everything," he reasoned, extending to her a plate of milk chocolate._

" _Even tea?" she mused, gazing at the proffered plate._

" _Especially tea," he said, proving his point with a plop of chocolate into the pot._

Sometimes Alice felt pulled towards the life she had known. The respectability, the rules, and the regulations, which was not terribly surprising given that was how she had been raised. But then she thought about Hatter as she counted invisible stars, and he gave her his strength, his muchness—it had always been his. She just sometimes tried it on. The sleeves hung a bit long, but she liked the fit.

...

8\. The Script – The Man Who Can't Be Moved 4:02

"Really, Hatter," Mirana said, frowning as prettily as was possible. "You have stood here quite long enough."

"How can I move, when Alice has not yet returned?"

"Alice will find you wherever it is you are. Alice is quite resourceful. And where your friends would like to see you is either in bed or at the table, where you might indulge in a little rest or repast, hmm?"

"I am not concerned with eating or sleeping at present," Hatter informed the Queen, crossing his arms across his chest. "And I am not concerned with Alice being unable to find me. I merely want to be the first to see her when she returns."

"Please don't be so impossible," the Queen said, lightly touching his folded arms. "Come to court. Make hats."

Hats, Hatter mused. That _was_ tempting, but he would not be moved. He would not be tempted by the Queen or anyone. He would stay here where they first met. She would see him. She would know. She would understand.

...

9\. A Fine Frenzy – Blow Away 3:48

"Oof!" Alice exclaimed, as she fell to the ground.

"Again," Hatter said unforgivingly.

Alice was about to frown when he extended his hand to her, hauling her out of the dirt.

"Champions must train for every possibility," he said, lowering his sword to nudge hers as it trailed in the dirt.

Alice was beginning to rethink telling Mirana that she would stay and be her Champion for all time. She was certainly beginning to rethink asking Hatter to be her trainer. He was unrelenting. Surely there were more pleasant things they could be doing. They could escape, ride the winds, smell the roses—whatever one did in Underland to pass the time pleasantly.

"Again," he said with a smirk.

"You're enjoying this," she said, dusting off her bottom.

He tilted his head, taking in the sight, "A little."

"I'm still seeing stars," Alice groaned, as she attempted to raise her sword.

"The stars do not come out until night, Alice," he said, circling her.

Alice gritted her teeth, "Alright then, again."

...

10\. Sara Bareilles – Love Song 4:20

Even out at sea she was not free of the meddling, the matchmaking, and the unrelenting pressure of Mother. Each port could bring word to her from London.

"She writes," Alice read aloud to herself, "Alice, Hamish could be persuaded upon to forgive you. You are rather difficult, and there is no good way to say this, but with your head in the clouds you will never make a better match. You simply must write Hamish."

She was _not_ going to write Hamish. Not ever. Not even with all of this lovely blank paper staring back at her awaiting ink. She had already apologized for embarrassing him, so that she would not feel guilty. Not to please her mother. She was done with trying to please her mother. Not to make Hamish propose again. She did not need Hamish.

"I'm _not_ going to write Hamish, Mother, and I am shocked you would encourage such _unladylike_ liberties." Were her mother there to hear her admonishment, she would be duly cowed. Single ladies writing letters to single gentlemen— _shocking_!

"I will write instead to a Hatter," Alice thought aloud, smiling to herself as she pulled out a sheath of paper. It might be presently undeliverable, but this letter would not be a chore. This letter would make breathing easy. This letter would promise a swift return.


	3. Playlist Shuffle Off to Buffalo Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIRD EFFORT

THIRD EFFORT

Theme: Alice in Wonderland

Rated G to R

1\. Keane – Everybody's Changing 3:39

Time was a funny fellow. He could stop for years if you really made him angry, and Hatter certainly had. An attempt on a fellow's life is not easily forgotten. So, while the rest of the world changed about him, Hatter stayed the same. Maybe a little more mad, but never truly different. Just Hatter. Hatter Always.

Being frozen at a tea table for all Time was not too much of a sacrifice. Not until the Alice came back. Then it was imperative that he make a move. The Resistance must become a Revolution and he must aid Alice. He rather began to think he would not go back to that tea table—except of course for teatime. Teatime at its proper time and not Forever Teatime.

But then, she had sipped from the vial and faded away right before his eyes, changing, while he was never to change. Growing and different and changing, while he was frozen. Forever.

Time, he realized, was not just fickle or funny, but downright unforgiving.

...

2\. Owl City – Fireflies 3:48

Alice awoke, wiggling her toes and feeling as if she had just emerged from a marvelous dream. Her most favorite dream, she thought, pushing herself up on her elbows in the crisp white cotton sheets. It was a warm evening and a lovely breeze was wafting through the open window; a breeze carried all the way from Underland, she imagined, as she slipped from the bed. Hurrying to the window, she marveled at the amount of light the moon was casting. Not the moon, she smiled: fireflies. Her heart began to race and her cheeks flushed pink. The fireflies were dancing, reminding her of something that she teased out in her dreams. Something about a Hatter. Something she needed to remember or experience for herself.

Pulling her nightgown above her ankles, Alice raced out of her room and down the spiraling stairs of her home, her feet silent on the wooden floors. Driven by an impulse, she simply had to make her way to the gardens. She had to dance with the fireflies. This was not a night for sleeping. Dreaming, perhaps, dancing absolutely. But not sleep.

...

3\. Green River Ordinance – Come On 3:50

Mally pouted. Stupid Hatter. Stupid, slurvish, sex-crazed Hatter.

She pouted and stamped her foot, jamming her hatpin sword into the surface of the tea table, watching him retreat into the distance.

Clueless dolt had the nerve to smile—actually _smile_ at her as he told her once again: _I'm off to see Alice_. She saw that smile in her dreams. She used to dream of scones and tea. Hatefully heroic Hatter with his little Hussy of an Alice. And She had to be so Helpful. First slaying jabberwockies and now regularly helping him emerge from madness, taking no thought to this having been Mally's job for years. Could the Alice not be just a little Useless? Just so in comparison she might seem a little more Useful?

Perhaps she could hide all his thimbles and then discover them somewhere very small, where the Alice could not reach. But then, the stupid girl was always drinking down pishsalver or gobbling up upelkuchen, so She would probably beat her to their recovery as well.

She had even seen the Alice don his Hat. Don his Hat! Mally had thought _riding_ on the Hat was a privilege, and then She had come along and placed it on her head with a satisfied wink.

How long had she and he been friends? How much loss had they sustained together? How many tea parties and unbirthdays had they celebrated? And yet he chose the Alice. Johnny-come-lately Alice. Perchance Chess was right: one could never count on a human.

...

4\. Coldplay – The Scientist 5:09

"Still at work, hmm?" Chessur purred, materializing above the worktable. "At it all night?"

Hatter made one last pleat and reached for his bone folder to make the crease crisp, running it along the razor edge of the ivory paper.

"I'm not a figment, you know," Chessur advised him.

"I am ignoring you anyhow," Hatter mumbled, as he reached for his shears. "I am much too busy to chat with cats."

"Cat. Singular," Chessur corrected, licking one paw.

"I have already had to start over again ten times today due to impertinent requests for hat orders," he grumbled, making a snip into the paper.

He paused. His hands twitched to work quickly on the paper, but if he worked too quickly, it would not turn out appropriately lovely. Lovely enough to be Her.

"From the looks of this mass of papers," Chess said, rolling onto his back, "you have started many times more than ten."

"Ten times ten," Hatter said with a shrug. "Ten times ten more if need be."

"What do you intend to do with this little diversion if you ever have any success?" Chessur asked, as Hatter's scissors worked too quickly of their own accord and began to craft the desired shape. "You won't begin to talk to paper dolls as you did with the clothespins will you? We may _all_ be mad, but you had begun to make _some_ of us dreadfully uncomfortable with that, you know."

Hatter set down his heavy shears with a clatter and glared over the imperfect doll. "You have made me slip," he snarled.

"Oh heavens," the Cat drawled, "and I see you will require Mally's bandaging talents again. I'm beginning to think that fetching Her back would be less time consuming _and_ less dangerous."

...

5\. Gavin DeGraw – In Love With A Girl 3:30

Hatter frowned, feeling very much like smoke might pour out of his ears. But, Alice would not allow him to slip into the madness. The press of her cool palms against his face brought him back to this world.

This was why he loved her. This was why he always had. Even when she was Little Alice and he only wanted to entertain her with riddles and rhymes. He still very much liked to do those things, but Adult Alice understood him even better than lovely, lively, Little Alice had. She knew better than to allow him to run away with himself. She drew him back to calm and serenity when he wanted to smash things. It was not always as immediately satisfying, for breaking things provided its own kind of pleasure, but it was better for him. Much better.

All the same…

"Ah wid verra much lik' tae strike him doun wi' mah sword," he growled.

"For asking me to dance?" Alice asked with an arched brow. "Do you not think that a _little_ barbaric?"

Hatter leaned into her, grazing her ear with his breath, "Ye said ye liked that."

Pulling back a hairsbreadth, he could see Alice fighting not to smile.

"Yes, my dear Hatter, but just when it's the two of us."

...

6\. The Fray – How to Save a Life 4:24

"It is time for a Serious Talk," the Queen advised, sitting opposite him with calculated calm.

She was always so composed, he mused. So opposite of himself.

"Of cabbages and kings?" he asked flatly.

"Perhaps another time," she said, pressing her hands together.

Hatter laughed, high and nervous. He had no wish to talk with the Queen about anything but hats and tea. Those were on his list of Officially Safe Subjects for Conversation. He had begun to collect them in a little yellow journal. The list was admittedly short.

"You don't seem yourself, dear Hatter," the Queen began.

"Mad? I am still, quite. Never you worry, Your Majesty," he said, adjusting his cuffs.

"Well, yes, I can see that, but I _have_ begun to worry. I am told you have stopped seeing your friends—all of them."

"They don't approve of my peculiarities," he said, absentmindedly running his fingers along the brim of his hat.

"What peculiarities are those, Hatter?" Mirana asked quietly, as if she might be afraid to hear the answer.

Hatter blinked, knowing his eyes had gone dark. "To explain, I'd have to show you what I keep in my hat, _and you wouldn't like that_."

...

7\. Eric Hutchinson – Rock & Roll 3:59

Stayne had not been able to use his charms for anything satisfying in ages. His ample charms had only been employed in the great hassle of charming his charmless sovereign with her giant head. But Um was lovely, large in all the right places. Lovely, long-legged Um from Umbridge. Turning his charms on her would be anything but a hassle, and he was unconcerned that his charms could have lessened over time without a pretty person to practice upon. He possessed such skills at getting what he wanted, and what he wanted was Um.

He would very much enjoy pressing her into a wall and breathing down her neck, moving his hands up her sides, tasting those lovely ruby lips—rouged by nature and not heavy makeup like these twits at court. He wondered if her hips would move in time with his or if he would have to coax her. Never mind, either way would be wondrous after years of scraping at the feet of the Queen.

He felt a little spring in his step that had not been there in many moons. Seducing Um would be such a pleasure. He would do whatever he liked and she would respond in kind. He would be in total control. He would possess her. He did not care how it came about. It would be.

...

8\. Elliott Smith – Needle in the Hay 4:17

"There _is_ a cure," he reminded himself.

If he wanted to be cured of this feeling of emptiness, Hatter knew exactly what to do. Of course, each trip to the back of the workroom brought him that much closer to being closed out from this world forever. Funny cure that could kill or send one right over the brink like a log over a waterfall. His tongue itched thinking about a release from these relentless Thoughts. He had been troubled by Terrible Thoughts for years. How many he was not sure, since Time had abandoned him, but it felt like several lifetimes. It had never occurred to him that after Frabjous Day things would _not_ be Restored, Redressed, Resplendent. But, so it was—for him, at least.

"Leave me alone," he growled at the voice that was crawling up his back.

All he wanted was to be quiet with himself. To find that loathsome needle he had buried somewhere in a desperate attempt to keep himself from indulging in the dirty retreat.

There _is_ a cure.

...

9\. Incubus – I Miss You 2:49

She was there beside him, but he missed her. Alice was asleep; asleep on his pillow. Several times during the night he had woken to watch her and pinch himself— _hard_ —to make sure this was Real.

She had assured him that she felt as he did. This wee laddie loved him: he, the Mad Hatter. That could not be Real, and yet, it might be out of line to repeatedly wake her from her restful sleep in order to query her and tell her that he missed her. _Desperately_. He could see her, smell her, but she was in a dream world he could not access. Alice eyes, Alice smile, Alice kisses, Alice words of love closed off to him except in Memory. She would wake soon, but he wanted her to _know_ …

Wake, wake, dear Alice, he silently projected at her. _I miss you_.

...

10\. Counting Crows – Goodnight Elisabeth 5:20

Waking up was never his Favorite part of the day. Asleep was his cherished Time. Asleep they were together. Asleep they walked the paths of Underland. He showed her things he had not yet had a chance to share with her. They spent their days in endless amusement and then counted the stars until they drifted off to sleep, lying on the dewy grass with her head pillowed on his shoulder. Always the same.

He would whisper, "Goodnight, Alice." Even though he never wanted to say it, for he knew that when he said his goodnights, he would wake to a world Absent of Alice. He could not help but say the words: Alice deserved to rest quietly, and he should be the one to wish it for her. Even if she was not coming Home—Home to Him.

Nevertheless, he would wait for her. Wait for her at the tea table. Wait for her in the workroom. Wait for her while she was Above with her Responsibilities. He would make lovely things to wrap her in when she returned from being Queen of Above to him, the King of Pain. She of Great Importance and he just a clown, a joker, a fool, really. A silly Hatter.

If only she would fall from Above, tumble into his lap, fall down on him. Surrounded by friends, until she fell, he was all alone. Except in his dreams.


	4. Playlist Shuffle Off to Buffalo Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOURTH EFFORT

FOURTH EFFORT

Theme: Alice in Wonderland

Rating: G to R

* * *

1\. Cat Power – Sea of Love (2:21)

"Do you remember?" he asked, whispering into her ear.

"Remember what?" she asked, leaning her head against his as they rocked to the music playing on the phonograph.

This was not the Quadrille. This was something much more pleasant. This was a Tarrant and Alice dance.

"The day we met," he said, as his hand painting lazy circles on the small of her back.

"Hmm," she hummed. "A little, like a dream."

She was standing on his toes, but he said it did not hurt. It was easier to guide her this way.

"You were my little pet," he said, kissing the shell of her ear.

Alice thought he had been rather Rude at the time, but she could not bear to admit it now. Sometimes a good memory was unpardonable.

"You said this dance would tell a story," she reminded him. Tarrant told such lovely stories: rounded, circuitous, and never-ending stories.

"Yes, it wants to tell you," he said, pausing as they turned a quarter turn, "how much I love you."

...

2\. Carla Bruni - Quelqu'un M'a Dit (2:44)

Alice stared into the open grave. Life was so fleeting. Time such a funny thing. No one had a right to waste a moment.

Yet, she had. She had wasted many.

 _Do you still love me_ , Alice wondered, as she walked away, her skirts dragging in the mud? It would seem an impossibility that he would. She had never returned to him. That _had_ been her promise—to be back before he would know it. He could not possibly still love her.

Once, Alice had felt something akin to a fairy wing beating against her ear. How she knew what a thing such as that would feel like, she did not know. Had it spoken? Had she heard?

It seemed to whisper to her: _he does, he does!_

But who? Who whispered such things in her ear? She could not remember. She could not believe.

...

3\. The Smiths – There Is a Light That Never Goes Out (4:04)

"Alice," Hatter begged.

She blinked back tears that stung her eyes and blurred her vision. "Don't fret," she whispered to him.

"Be strong, lass," he said, wiping her the spilt tears from her cheeks.

Her brow knit, as it occurred to her that perhaps she was being made to go home. Perhaps that was what this feeling was: of being pulled into the darkness. Perhaps she was being tugged through a rabbit hole.

"I don't want to go home," she confessed, her voice breaking.

"You're not going anywhere," he groaned. "I won't let you go."

His hand stroked her cheek again and this time she noticed the profusion of blood smeared over his digits. Had he hurt himself?

 _Oh_ , she remember, as a sharp pain sent a wave of light across her vision. _It is not Tarrant who is hurt, but I. I am undone, struck down._ Knaves were such troublesome creatures, quite uncontainable, not respectful of exile.

"I'm not going _home_ ," she said with a sigh. "I'm dying."

"No, love," he said, pressing his forehead to hers.

Love, she thought. She was his and he was hers. "It's a pleasure to die by your side," she whispered. Her hand searched for his heart, creeping along his chest with the tremulous fingers. She wanted to feel it beat beneath her touch. "There," she breathed, as she found it. "Shh," she shushed him indulgently like a child.

"I can't…without you," he sobbed.

"You don't have to, my dear Tarrant. I shall be a light: here," she said, pressing her palm against the thump-thump that told her he was alive, "and it will never go out."

...

4\. Jump, Little Children – Close Your Eyes (2:49)

Alice lay on her side, watching Tarrant pretend to sleep. He was still and his eyes were closed, but she knew beyond a doubt that he was very much awake. What she did not know was what kept him awake. What made him unwilling to sleep?

 _Tell me something I can assist you with, my dearest Hatter._

Bright lights and creepy shadows?

Thin air, so that you cannot feel the air when it moves?

Stars made of tin banging on the roof?

She would fix them all.

 _Please, if you don't want to sleep_ …

Last night he had slept. He had slept the slumber of a tormented man: tossing and rolling, troubled by Bad Dreams. He had shaken his head, when she had pressed him for answers about the visions plaguing him. Answers he could not share.

...

5\. Norah Jones – Sunrise (3:20)

Alice pulled the white sheet over their heads, so that it billowed like a parachute engulfing the bed. Tarrant giggled, reaching up to twine his fingers in her golden hair, as the sheet fluttered back down to rest on her head.

"Lovely morning," he mused.

"It hasn't been morning for hours," Alice said, collapsing across his chest.

"Hasn't it?" he asked. He would not know. Time sometimes went very still. "The sun seems to be rising," he pointed out. That must be the sun lighting Alice's hair through the cotton of the sheet.

"The afternoon has already come and gone," Alice said with a laugh, before pressing a kiss in the sparse hair of chest.

"And teatime?"

"Would that bother you if we had missed it?" Alice asked, propping herself up slightly to look him in the eyes.

He pondered that for a minute. Teatime was special, sacred, sacrosanct, but Alice was pillowed against his chest. He lifted the covers a bit, so they rose off of their bodies as he peeked over her shoulder. A fine stretch of naked Alice skin met his gaze.

"Don't tell, Alice, but not even tea could tempt me to leave."

Alice smiled contentedly, sliding deeper into his arms, "We'll wait for morning then."

...

6\. She & Him – Why Do You Let Me Stay Here (2:31)

"Hellooo?" the Dormouse called to the Royal Hatter, forgetting to practice Patience. The roar of his machine drowned out her tiny voice, however.

He would not take note of her: a distinguished Hatter such as he, a Hatter to the White Queen, and she just a little Dormouse. She peeked down from her perch—a shelf she had selected so that she could watch him. It would be a great deal of fun if he would only notice her. They had so much in common: a love of tea, an appreciation for swords, a thirst for rhymes and riddles, but how was she to get his attention so that she could tell him any of this? He was at work, and that left her sitting on the shelf.

"Hello! Hatta!" she squeaked when his machine went still for a moment.

He turned quickly, his eyes going wide as he spied her. "Oh, hello there, Dormouse," he said, reaching up a hand.

 _Reaching up a hand!_ Mally blushed pink beneath her white fur, as she climbed into his hand. Her heart gave a little flutter.

"Who is the most polished king in the world?" she asked him.

He brought his hand close to his face, as he considered with a cocked brow. "I give up."

"Blacking," she stated proudly. The introduction had been made—properly, just as she had hoped.

"Ah! Quite right, little friend," he said with a pleased smile. "Will you keep me company?" he asked, setting her atop his worktable.

"Most certainly."

She knew immediately: she would like him for herself.

...

7\. Erik Hassle – Hurtful (3:03)

Alice ran quickly, dodging branches that seemingly wanted to trap her and keep her from her destination—Hatter, her Hatter, Tarrant. She had something important to tell him, and she could not hurry fast enough. Her chest was about to burst when she stumbled into the clearing, where her friends were sitting at tea, as she knew they would be. _Have I made a rhyme?_

"Alice?" Hatter said, standing up and knocking his chair over backwards. "Is that you?"

Alice wanted to begin speaking at once: _I am sorry, I apologize, what I did was hurtful!_ All that came out were gasping breaths, however. She had run too fast too far, but not fast enough when every moment was another moment he might know that she was gone. What a terrible turn of phrase, she chastised herself. How could he not know she was gone?

Her friends were all chattering, but she could only hear her Hatter. She could only see him striding towards her and taking her by the shoulders.

"It is me," she finally managed.

"So it is," he lisped.

"I used to run," she said, clutching her chest. "I threw it all away."

He shook his head, "Nothing has been tossed or lost, lass, and we've set a place for you for tea."

...

8\. Train – If It's Love (3:59)

Tarrant sometimes walked on the ceiling when everyone else walked on the floor. That did not seem to affect Alice in the least, which was another reason she was the best thing in his life: better than tea, better than hats, better than rhymes. They were two peas in a pod, two birds of a feather, like a cushion and pins, because Alice would join him on the ceiling, where they could stare down at everyone below, who were boring enough to think floor walking was the way of things.

"Ten bairns," he bargained.

"Ten?" she repeated, her eyes gone wide.

"We'll have to build a new house," he acknowledged.

"On a Hatter's salary?" she inquired with a small smile.

"We'll live on laughter and song."

"Of course. Sounds very nourishing," she acceded.

"And tasty, no doubt," he added, snaking his hand across the table to seize hers. "Shall we go to bed?"

"It is nearly lunchtime," Alice reminded him. "Not bedtime."

"Sometimes sleeping during the day as opposed to the night can be very refreshing for one's perspective."

"Refreshing, hmm? As refreshing as our morning stroll on the ceiling?"

"Ten times that," he assured her.

Alice smirked, "And this has nothing to do with these ten children you keep mentioning?"

Hatter laughed, "Only if you want it to, _Naughty_."

...

9\. Pearl Jam – Just Breath (3:36)

Tarrant ran his hand over her hip. "Stay with me," he breathed against her neck.

The arch of her body against his was her response.

"I love you," he mumbled, tracing her collar bone with kisses. "I need you," he continued, as he reached the hollow of her throat. "I want you," he told her, as he pressed his hand into the small of her back, drawing her as close as she could be. "I'm a fool," he finished, as he kissed her lips.

"No," she said, threading her fingers into his hair.

Alice never let him speak ill of himself. She said they were both humans beneath their hats and hose and hilarity, beneath their sins and secrets and sorrow.

"Did I say I love you?" he asked, his brows drawing together in concern. He had meant to: it had been his first priority, but now he found himself rubbing against her and clawing at her clothes, and he could not for the life of him recall what he had said to her.

"Yes," she breathed in response, drawing her bare foot over his pant leg.

He sighed in relief, as he lifted her skirts. Now he had only to show her.

...

10\. Muse – Uprising (5:03)

"The Alice is not what I was expecting," Mally said a little sullenly.

Hatter leveled her with a look. "Alice is the Proper Size and Alice has promised to Slay. What more were you expecting?"

"Scales?" Thackery offered, his one eye twitching.

"One doesn't need scales to slay the Jabberwocky. The prophecy says nothing of scales," Hatter said dismissively. "She would look quite _horrid_ with scales."

"If we are mentioning the prophecy, I might point out that the Alice does not so much resemble a beamish boy as she does a _girl_ ," Chessur reminded him.

"The wee laddie _is_ surprising," Hatter said with a smile. "But then, Alice has always been a girl, so we should not hold _that_ against her."

"It's her muchness that ah find wantin'," Mally explained.

"No need," Hatter insisted. "She shall most definitely slay. We shall be victorious." He was certain of it, because Hope had crawled onto his shoulder and begun to whisper all manner of happy things. Hope promised victory, an end to degradations, an end to the Red!

Mally sighed. "I wish she'd come lookin' a bit better prepared to wield a sword."

Tarrant pulled his claymore out and raised it, testing its weight. "She tamed the Bandersnatch, did she not?"

"Stop waving that thing about!" Chessur begged. "You'll give me a heart attack."

"Cowardly Cat," he said, grinning at the blade. "Yes, the Alice will slay," he said with glowing pride. Tomorrow His Alice would put an end to everything Bad and bring Beauty back to Underland, and then, he would kiss her—vigorously.


	5. Playlist Shuffle Off to Buffalo Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIFTH EFFORT

FIFTH EFFORT

Theme: Alice in Wonderland

Rating: G to M

* * *

1\. Guster – Dear Valentine (4:34)

"I have a recurring dream."

"Yes, Alice," Margaret replied, plying her embroidery needle.

"That is nice dear," her mother agreed absentmindedly.

"There are creatures and people and…talking egg men."

Margaret looked over her embroidery with an arched brow. "I believe I have the silliest sister in all of London."

"Alice is mad," her father informed them.

Alice grinned. She was quite proud of that fact. Mad as a hatter, she was.

"When I go there, I am dressed neatly and properly and I have tea."

"That doesn't sound terribly mad," her mother blandly countered.

"It is a _mad_ tea party, Mother," Alice insisted. "With riddles and rhymes and nonsense. You wouldn't like it one bit." Upon further reflection that made Alice like it all the better.

"And then you come home," her father said with a warm smile.

"Yes, Father. It isn't a place for staying, as much as you might wish it to be, even if it is a mad, crazy, wonderful idea."

…

2\. Mychael Danna – A Story of Boy Meets Girl (1:35)

This is a story of boy meets girl.

Tarrant Hightopp, hatter to the White Queen, killed Time waiting for Alice Kingsleigh to return to Underland. He believed that he would never truly be happy until the day he would once again see the Alice. This was due to the prophecies of the Oraculum and several mad teas, courtroom trials, and lion-unicorn fights he had shared with the Alice when she was a little girl child.

The blonde, Alice Kingsleigh, did not believe herself to be capable of slaying. She did not even believe her Wonderland to be a real place. She believed it all to be a dream. She had felt very little since the passing of her father.

Tarrant met the Alice on Griblig day. He knew almost immediately that she was The Alice.

This is a story of boy meets girl, but you should know upfront this is not a love story.

…

3\. Finger Eleven – Paralyzer (3:28)

Tarrant holds the shaking teacup to his lips to drink, fervently wishing that the tea will soothe his nerves. There is no tea to drink, however, for he carefully poured the tea into the saucer—not the cup—just a moment earlier. Never mind, he thinks, he will drink the imaginary tea. He will do anything so as not to Imagine.

Alice's knee bumps his under the table.

"That's not helping, Alice," he lisps, scolding her.

She frowns slightly. She does not understand his meaning, but then, he is not understood so often that it rarely bothers him. It does not bother him the way the press of her hand against his jacketed arm does.

"How can I help?" she asks, patting his arm.

The teacup jangles loose from his fingers and clatters to the table. It would have sloshed its contents if there were contents to slosh.

"Your quick thinking in keeping tea in saucers and not cups has saved me from getting wet," Alice says with a smile.

"I shouldn't mind you wet," he replies, the words slipping out before he can lock them inside.

Alice pauses, quiet for a moment, and he attempts to prepare a speech to beg forgiveness for his transgression, a quite difficult task given that his mind is also composing songs in honor of Wet Alices, but his speechifying and balladizing is cut short.

"I never much cared for baths as a child, but I don't mind them anymore." Alice's face is serene, hiding her feelings in a way his cannot.

"Shall I draw you one?" he asks, tilting his head and quirking a brow. This transgression will take more than speechifying to rectify.

Alice pushes back her chair, standing and smoothing her skirts with calm reserve. "Yes, please."

…

4\. Simon & Garfunkel – Bookends (1:21)

Alice sits quietly. The cherry blossoms forever shivering and shedding their petals about her, coating her shoulders with their pink white petals. She draws her hands—hands that she no longer recognizes as her own, weathered, wrinkled, and well-worn—over the top of the hat that is just as tattered as she must seem to others now. Well loved. That is what the hat is. That is what she has been.

It is beginning to feel like very long ago, she reflects, raising the hat to her lips.

Bookends. They had been a pair.

…

5\. She & Him – I Should Have Known Better (3:39)

Hatter was very good at deceiving himself. He had nearly made a career of it once he was no longer Royal Hatter to the White Queen. Self-deception could come in handy. It could be dangerous.

He had lulled himself into thinking, as he swayed forward, that this would be a Once Thing. Not a Twice Thing or— _Underland forbid_ —an All the Time Thing. He would kiss Alice Once. She could forgive a Once. That was such a small thing, and Alice had endless sympathy and mercy and kindness to share with him, her dearest friend.

Her lips were soft and warm and his heart began to pound in his chest like Thackery with a pot and ladle. He screwed his eyes shut tightly, waiting for Alice to respond. If she responded…

She did. Her lips pressed back, moving slightly against his. He shuttered, breathing against her lips.

This was not a Once, lying, dishonest Hatter.

He slipped his arms around her back, pulling her towards him. If he broke the kiss, he was going to say he loved her. He was going to ask her to be his. It would be the First of Many, not a Once.

…

6\. Maroon 5 – Sunday Morning (4:06)

Alice sits on the extra chair Tarrant has set up for her in his workroom, so that she might watch him as he works, when she is not otherwise occupied with the duties of being Champion of Underland. She sits wrapped in a white sheet that covers nothing but her nakedness.

Pins pursed between his lips, he approaches her with a dress maker's tape. "Stand up, love," he speaks around the pins.

She stands and turns slowly as his fingers and the tape measure trace her outline, measuring her for the dress that he insists she is need of, measuring her for the dress that was such a pressing concern that they have abandoned their bedtime activities— _for just a moment_ , he promised. He always thinks that she is in need of something. When he means himself, he is usually right.

He attempts with a waggle of his brows to peek underneath the sheet she has dragged with her from the bedroom and earns a laugh from her. Might as well, she thinks, as she allows the sheet to flutter to the ground.

Tarrant had no need for measurements—he knew her form too well—until very recently. Now her body changes so quickly that his measurements and the gowns that result from them cannot keep up. He presses his palm to the roundness of her belly and beams.

Alice cups his face, whispering, "Come to my arms, my beamish boy."

…

7\. Regina Spektor – Hero (3:32)

Hatter jerks as the chair clatters to the ground. He is accustomed to his own fits; he and they are quite cozy companions, but he is not accustomed to the fits of others. He is not accustomed to Alice behaving in such a manner: no, not at all. But she screams, she rages, and he does not know what to say or do. So, he stands and watches.

"You told me that it was all about me," she yells, her face gone red.

"Why…yes, yes, I did," he lisps, wondering if she has yelled herself out yet and he can approach her.

"Wouldn't that make me the hero?" she asks, laughing a little madly.

He swallows and nods, 'Yes.'

"This sort of thing doesn't happen to heroes," she sobs, crumpling on the floor.

He takes two steps and when she does not throw anything, he chances another two steps and he is at her side. He crouches down.

He is hurting too, but the Darkness and Badness must be kept at bay. Alice must be allowed to scream and kick, and he must be there to anchor her to sanity, as she has done for him countless times.

"And now I suppose you want to save me," Alice whispers. "I don't need to be saved," she spits bitterly.

"Of course not," he lisps, testing first one hand on her shoulder and then another.

"You didn't tell me this could happen," she says, sounding as if her chest is about to burst open with tears.

Tarrant hates to see Alice cry, but tears might be preferable to what has preceded them.

"I never thought it would," he apologizes, as he reaches one hand up to stroke her hair. "I didn't see it coming, Alice. I never see the worst things in my life coming. It's a terrible defect."

She leans into his touch, tears rolling silently down her face.

Taking her in his arms and rocking her, he begins to whisper to her, "It's all right," so quickly that it loses all meaning, a smear of sounds.

"I'm the hero of this story," she speaks into his chest, as if by asserting such a fact, she will wake up tomorrow and she and he will not have lost that which was desired and hoped for.

Tomorrow he will destroy his workroom. He will tear apart every hat. He will break furniture. He will smash windows. But that will have to wait for tomorrow.

"It's all right…"

…

8\. Dashboard Confessional – Hands Down (3:07)

"Shh…" she urges him, trying to silence his Outlandish, which trips helplessly off his tongue as he feels her legs graze against his. "You must be quiet or they'll find us," she reminds him, as he runs his hand over her knickered thigh, lifting her leg higher so that he can find a home against her here.

He hopes the tree does not mind terribly much. It is Alice. Who would mind having an Alice pressed against them?

She is right of course: the party is only a snail's day's march away. But her touch has him twisting, coiling, and he cannot manage to silence himself.

Her hand brushes the front of his kilt and he chokes against her throat, "That might kill me." He does not recognize the sound of his voice. It is deep and thick, but free of his brogue. This is a voice he thinks he remembers from the past, when there were lasses, but not an Alice in the bunch.

"Shall I stop?" she asks, sounding amused and knowing no doubt what his answer will be.

His heart is hers. She can fill it or break it entirely, but he will not tell her that tonight. Tonight he simply must sample these kisses more meticulously. Tonight he must see how she feels. Tonight he must be felt. He buries his face in her neck, where he can smell her Aliceness, where he can smell the blondeness, as she finds what her fingers have been searching for beneath his kilt.

"At ane mair," he groans a little too loudly. [1]

Alice laughs at his disobedience. Silly lass, her laughter is as likely to get them discovered as his Outlandish, but that can be easily dealt with. He silences her with a kiss.

…

9\. Guster – Careful (3:42)

"Stay."

"I can't."

He had said this before. So had she. Always the same. Alice was very important. Alice had questions to answer. Alice had people that would miss her.

She always had to go back to Above, where there were people who lied to her. They told her that she was needed there more than she was needed with him. They told her that she was mad and her trips underground were nothing but dreams. Those were lies, but ones that were hard to argue over, because each time she came back, she and he had to begin again back at the start.

He knew her, but Tarrant was just a memory to her, nothing but a dream, a lovely dream, and she would miss him when she woke up, but…

She still had to go.

He would try, _try_ , _TRY_ —he would do _anything_ to keep her with him, away from those that would hurt her. Perhaps this time he would be enough.

…

10\. Incubus – 11am (4:14)

Alice lies abed. She has been lying abed for hours. If her mother had traveled abroad with her, she would be chiding her for her laziness. Who stays in bed until eleven in the morning?

But her bones are weary and her spirit more so. She opened her eyes this morning at the sound of the harbor bell and sawa blue butterfly beat at the window. Too bright for this hot harsh climate where nothing should flourish. Too bright for this world altogether.

Another world. Underland. Hatter.

It all crashed back onto her, overcome by the old fear, buried up to her neck in it. She gave up so much when she left, but then again, she is safer here among the sane and she is safer when she has not ventured her heart. But then again, you are always alone, Alice. You will always be alone here. There will come a day when adventure Above will lose its charm and you will wonder why you chose this over him.

The days that begin on this train of thought are lost days. They are days when she is weighed down with indecision and regret.

"Hatter," she whispers aloud, as if speaking his name might conjure him to her bedchamber.

Perhaps that day has already come. Perhaps it came long ago.

There is a knock at the door, and something thrills through her spine to her soul. _Could it be you?_

 _  
_

* * *

[1] _at ane mair_ – at the breaking point, at the end of one's tether,


End file.
